Capture the Flagg
by texasPanzer
Summary: Someone has attacked a nurse at MASH 4077, and Flagg has shown up to place his investigative skill to the test.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to MASH, they are owned by 20th Century Fox. Only Nurse Pelt is of my creation.

Quiet. It was quiet here at the 4077th MASH, Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. Five days and no wounded. Before that though, almost four hundred cases, including North Korean and Chinese prisoners, arrived for them. Careful hard work and care led to not one patient to be lost, not even an enemy soldier.

When a lull came, everyone fell onto their cots or onto their floors to catch up on deprived sleep. Even sentries were nodding off at their posts that were a grave invitation for trouble. Most MASH units were tent establishments however the 4077th was lucky to have aluminum sided building with a solid concrete floor where their surgery and recovery wards lay. Only a few times were they forced to evacuate this dwelling, each time they came right back to start all over. One of the few other buildings that was not a tent was a supply room stocked full with medical supplies including plasma, morphine, penicillin, blankets, and I.V, all this was essential to their warfare.

It was dark, an overcast night. Thick, black clouds were low, blocking out the mountains just a few miles away. Guiding to the supply shed by a dim light bulb dangling just above the front door, Nurse Pelt picked out a key from a ring full of them given to her by Radar, opened the lock, and entered, closing the door behind her. She went in fully expecting to find another light bulb to switch on there by giving her plenty to see, instead, she found not a light bulb, but another person.

Outside the shed and inside the compound, no one could hear her screams for help as she was thrashed and thrown about. Her petite body was bashed against the walls, shelves rattled, bottles and boxes crashed to the floor. It lasted several agonizing minutes. Pelt tried to fight back, but she was scared, the attacker was big though she could not see and distinguishing features. Whomever it was had strong hands and a thick, heavy, breath wreaking of alcohol.

Walking through his paces as a sentry, Corporal Klinger, having to deal with extra duty after another lame attempt to free himself from the U.S Army, was muttering to himself in Lebanese. He was a good corpsman, cared for the sick and wounded, but it was this that he was trying to remove himself from, the carnage. He feared death and did not wish to wait to have Death come to him. Several times the unit had been sniped, shell, and aerial attacked and even ravaged by Mother Nature. As he strolled through the compound, M1 rifle thrown over one shoulder, he chewed on a cigar, puffing it lightly as he muttered some thoughts. Supply shack was just a few yards away; it seemed secured, so he gave it not a second thought when the front door flew open like a heavy wind had struck from the inside. Alarmed, Klinger spun about, holding his rifle tightly, finding the door ajar, but not a soul to be seen. Cautious, he came forth, rifle at the ready. He was scared but thought that it was just the wind. It was his duty to be alert for any act of aggression against the camp so he approached praying it was the wind. Stepping into the door way he looked in nervously, his thick, black curled hair flowing underneath his steel pot helmet. No light inside. Reaching through the darkness he found the light switch and turned it on; nothing.

"Damn supply sergeant" grumbling as his teeth gnawed on his cigar.

Without a flashlight the brave corporal went on, carefully treading as his rifle pointing into the darkness.

"Whose is in here?" he called out.

No answer.

A minute passed, he went about behind one shelve and then another. If anyone was in here, he could smell them due to his rather large nostrils. A light perfume hung in the chilly air. Smelled nice, something romantic, and he homed in on it. Then, his foot struck something. It gave a light moan. Sounded like a women, and the only women in camp are nurses.

"Good lord" he said as the warm Lebanese blood in his body ran cold.

In the Swamp, nicknamed for the tent occupied to Captain's Pierce, Hunnicutt and Major Burns, all three were fast asleep on their cots. A few stiff drinks from their private still made the two captains tipsy but still coherent enough to hear Klinger's cry for help. Some one was hurt. In a flash the two of them threw on their colorful robes and made a V-line for the shed, the straggler was Burns whom whined that he did not wish to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.

Hawkeye, as Pierce was more commonly known, entered into the abyss. He too was unable to see whom it was laying there. Just behind him was Father Mulcahy, the camp priest. Hearing the commotion, he came out with a flash light and shined some light on the situation, literally.

"Oh, dear god" Hawkeye groaned when he realized whom it was.

Nurse Pelt, Jessie Pelt. A new comer to MASH, she hailed from Florida following a brief career as a nurse in Pensacola before she volunteered for Korea where she hoped to earn some experience at an army hospital. She now lay in a near fettle position on the floor of the supply shed. Blood was oozing from her nose, mouth, eyes, and ears forming a small pool beside her head. It looked like someone had used her for a punching bag.

"Pelt, who did this to you?" Hawkeye asked as he kneeled besides her examining the gruesome wounds to her head as Hunnicutt examined the rest of her body that she was trying to shield with her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach knees bright up to her chest. Both of her eyes were swollen shut yet, she knew Hawkeye by his voice from his many attempts to win her over right after arriving. "I…I…did not see him, he was…so big" tears were trying to come out.

"Don't talk" he consoled, "I have you fixed up in no time."

Klinger rushed off once more, fetched Radar, the company clerk. When they returned, they brought a stretcher. Carefully, Radar and Klinger loaded Pelt onto the stretcher as it as Mulcahy ran to notify Major Houlihan, the chief nurse, of the situation. Next stop for Pelt was pre-op or pre-operation where injuries are assessed that was inside that permanent structure.

Radar was having trouble carrying the stretcher all the way; Klinger's stride was too much for his tiny legs. "Pick it up, Radar, we need her inside," Hawkeye was running alongside them.

"I'm trying, sir, but Klinger is too fast," Radar complained.

"Try walking faster" he encouraged.

"I can't. Walking too fast makes me dizzy," Radar concluded just as they entered pre-op and placed the stretcher on a table. Once down, in better light, Hawkeye was able to examine Pelt. Just moments into this, the doors flapped open again, another hurricane came through, and this one was a well-built Major Houilhan and she had a rare concerned look on her face.

"Pierce" she called out as she darted through the two corporals, "I just heard. Is it true?" The answer lay right before her on the table. Her face turned stalk white like all the others looking at one of her nurses helpless on the table. At first, Pelt was unrecognizable with all her injuries, and then she remembered the dark hair, almost black that shined in the light.

"What happened?" the major asked to which Pelt did not or could not respond to, merely quivering her lips before slightly rolling her head away.

Turning to Pierce at her side, Houlihan asked, "How bad is it?" Her voice was low, in a whisper to conceal her worry.

"Not sure" Pierce replied matching her volume. He then looked around to see Radar with a very concerned look on his face. "Radar, why don't you…."

"I'll wake Colonel Potter" finishing his sentence and ran right out the door in which he came. He wanted him gone to talk to Houlihan as he directed Klinger to put down his rifle and start up the X-ray machine. He feared that there might be internal trauma in her head as well as chest thus Pelt was wheeled to the X-ray room to have her innards photographed. As they developed she was wheeled to the surgical table. Radar was the one developing the photos and when they were done he rushed in and placed them on the wall chart and turned on the light to illuminate them. Looking at them amazed Pierce carefully went over her body from head to stomach as the Major stood beside him doing the same thing. "Okay, we're gonna have to operate," Pierce began and turned back to Pelt just as a voice condemned it.

With him gone, Pierce finished it off, "I won't know till I go in there. I'll need an assistant."

She snapped, "I'll do it"

"X that order," a heavy voice called out. It was Colonel Potter, a man of short stature but a well-seasoned soldier and surgeon. He came in with a bathrobe, slippers, and a garrison cap bearing his rank. Though calm, collective, and mild mannered, he was fully against the duo operating on Pelt. "Pierce, you and the major are not fit to operate." Those words came as an insult. Before they could interject Potter held up a hand, "I'm not trying to be mean to you two, but I watched the way you handled the situation and I don't want to risk personal feelings from jeopardizing a serious operation. Major, grab one of your nurses and Pierce, Hunnicutt will operate instead. Though trying to sooth the feathers of the subordinates did quite fair out, Potter's words were final. Finished, he looked at the captain, then the nurse. "You'll be fine," he said to both of them then departed for his office.

Houlihan was forced to watch from the washing room as Hunnicutt, Nurse Able, and Nurse Kellye scrubbed their hands and dawned their white gowns and masks before going in. Though he cracked jokes to ease the tension, the surgeon was clearly nervous and tried to remain focused as they made Margaret more worried for the life of Lieutenant Pelt. For four hours she watched from the window, a spectator from beginning to end. Kellye did her job in handing tools, suction, and sewing, while Able gave a steady dose of gas to keep Pelt asleep. Though most of the injuries were to the head, there appeared to be internal bleeding in the chest and stomach that required opening her up. Hunnicutt, the father of a little girl, fast and light on his fingers, the only words that came from his mouth after they started was what tool he wanted next. Both Able and Kellye had never seen him so and were scared themselves as one of their friends was under the knife and tried to not look at her face. One stitch and one wound at a time, B.J. proceeded. Four hours flew by rather fast and it was at last over. Able and Kellye wheeled Pelt away on the gurney to post-op while B.J. ripped off the rubber gloves from his hands and entered the wash room where Houlihan and now Colonel Potter were anxiously waiting.

"How is she?" Houlihan jumped at the approaching captain just as he stepped out into the wash room.

"She's going to make it. But will have one hell of a headache in when she finally comes too," he remarked rather lowly as his face mask dropped showing his tired face then he began to remove his gown and throw it into a laundry bin before slumping into a bench against the wall.

"What in Sam Hill happened to that poor girl?" Potter asked standing beside the major.

Replying slowly, "Not sure. She only said that the person was big," B.J. sighed, his head leaning back and thumping against the wall.

"That's it?" Houlihan gasped, "She didn't say anything else?"

"Look, Margaret, it was dark in that shed. That was all she said to me and I don't want to press her anymore."

"How bad is it?" Potter asked.

"A massive subdural hematoma, her cheek bone and nose is fracture, two molars knocked out, jaw broken in two places, one rib broken and stomach bleeding. I patched her up but it will require more work in Tokyo." B.J's voice was fatigued and waning. Potter agreed, called for Radar whom was right behind them, clip board in hand.

"Call Seoul, request a chopper first thing in the morning. Then call Military Police, have them canvas the neighborhood for any suspicious people, then bring Corporal Klinger to my office, I want to ask him a few questions, then I want bed check on the entire camp to make sure everyone is in their place." Potter said the first few words; Radar finished the rest and departed to complete them. That was his best feature.

Everything was moving like a wheel behind the scenes allowing Hawkeye to enter the recovery ward where Pelt had a cot, and a ward, all to herself. It was quiet, no other patients so she received all of the attention there was. When the sodium pentothal wore off her eyes were still swollen shut and she could not answer any more questions, only muttering or groaning. A clip board that he held showed all of the stats Pelt had, so far, as well as all that had been done to her, by her attacker and patched up by B.J.

Reading the chart Hawkeye pictured the attack in his mind the more he read and it was worse than what B.J. told the Colonel earlier. A broken rib, internal bleeding in the lungs and stomach, a broken nose, two black eyes, fractured skull with internal bleeding, major fracture to the jaw, two missing teeth, and a serious concussion were all filling up his mind as to the brutality of the attack and looking over the edge of the clipboard bandages covered up most of her gorgeous face and she was under an itchy wool blanket with tubes in her to drain out blood from her lungs and stomach, "Oh, Pelt…" Hawkeye muttered as he lay down on the cot next to her. Able was taking her pulse as he began to drift off back to sleep…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to MASH. They are owned by 20th Century Fox Entertainment. I do, however, own Nurse Pelt, that is my only creation.

"_If you take the time to lie on your back, close your eyes, and just listen to world passing by you, one could only wonder what it would be like if war was not ever created. Korea would be a wonderful place. Country side is lovely during the changing of the seasons. The locals are friendly, and there is a lot history here that is so fascinating that I want to know more before…" _That was what Pelt wrote in her diary the night before she was attacked. It stopped there before she had to leave her tent. She was a new comer to MASH but she was well liked and as she lay on her cot in Post Op, bandaged but quietly sleeping there was a tense hush in the area before Hawkeye, whom had fallen asleep in the empty cot next to Pelt so if the an emergency happened he would be there, was shaken awake by a three foot boy with glasses just as thick; Radar.

"Hawkeye, wake up!" Radar shook the Captain by the shoulder.

"What? What is it?" he asked, rolling over onto his side.

"Wounded are coming in, sir. Just one bus," the corporal said moving to the foot of the bed then out the door to his office.

"I wish there would be zero buses" Hawkeye grumbled as he rose up, stooping a bit and stretching his arms above his head, feeling his muscles stretch before heading out, following Radar. Pierce glanced over at the bed where Pelt was fast asleep having not moved so much as an inch since being placed there hours ago. he wanted to say something but did not in the end.

Outside, there was virtually no activity. Potter had instituted a state of Martial Law on the camp in an attempt to prevent the attacker from leaving. He or she might still be around; perhaps it was one of their own. Those not on duty were confined to their quarters as armed MPs strolled through between tents and down road ways, looking into every trash can and tent. Following a careful check of each bed, where every member was accounted for, it was discovered that no one was missing and people accounted for their location that night. Tension was lingering over the camp as people started to suspect one another as to who the attacker could have been. An outsider? Possibly. There was no trace of anyone leaving the camp that night. No incoming wounded and the last bus leaving was hours before hand, but the next question would be; why would anyone want to attack her? Pelt was sweet, gentle hearted, never hurt anyone and even the enlisted knew and liked her because she spent the time learning their names and even where they were from and not by sleeping around. Inside the Nurses' Tent Kelleye, Able, Baker, and others heard the alarm of the approaching bus and were shoving their feet into their muddied boots. They hadn't slept at all last night, too scared and worried. An MP was posted outside their door and every time they left to the latrine they had to be escorted by another. They could not go see Pelt as she was being guarded as well and they wondered if she would make it.

It was a bright sunny day, with few clouds, temperature was mild, no breeze, opposite of what had transpired that night before. Yet, there was no one out to relish such a rare delight as a faded green bus bearing a Red Cross on its roof was charging its way down the road, passing a disgruntled Rosie and her bar into camp. The P.A crackled to life announcing for all staff to go to work.

"_Attention, all personnel. Incoming! Put on your slippers for the dance in the mud."_

There was a different load onboard this one as the doors were flung open and nurses and orderlies climbed inside. These were Chinese soldiers wounded from last night's attempt to infiltrate the line. Instead, the Americans counter attacked and took the lot prisoner after a long firefight. Now it was the 4077th mission to patch them up and ship them to the rear. Throwing open the back door to the bus orderlies were taking the stretchers with the POWs off as people gasped for air through the open windows. No soap or clean water their uniforms infested with fleas and lice these men were casualties before they were hit. Burning up their nostrils the doctors carried on their task ill regardless of hygiene or patient's position on the war. A belly wound first greeted Hawkeye, unconscious with shrapnel that had lacerated the intestines. Pushing through, Hunnicutt came up to another with a head wound that sadly did not make the journey. "Rest in peace" the captain whispered as he pulled the wool blanket over the man's face. Radar was right behind to take down the soldiers' information, but most Chinese soldiers were conscripts that did not carry identification tags like America or Britain does thus he was forced to right down just_"Enemy POW"_ to describe the person.

Hawkeye and B.J were busy with the most serious patients, Burns pushed his way past them towards the front of the bus where, he hoped, were the simplest cases. And there were; two Americans that were wounded in the same fight. The first one was a private with shrapnel to the shoulder, not too serious. Across from him was a blanket wrapped one with his muddied boots sticking out from underneath. American made they were, Burns knew it. No toe tag meant he was not dead. Pulling back the blanket from the patient's head, he was surprised when the body suddenly shot up into a sitting position.

Recoiling with a high pitch yell, Burn's took up everyone's attention onboard for there; sitting up on the stretcher was Colonel Flagg, CIA.

"Burns, you are all American" Flagg greeted with a mono tone as he threw his legs off the suspended cot and pulled the blanket from his body, "I recorded everything that was said on this bus and you were the only one that went by the book." His face, squinted eyes, square jaw, and glare were apparent even under the bandaged forehead. "It will go down in my report."

"Why thank you, sir" Burn smiled nervously, standing up slowly before nodding and swallowing hard, intimidated by this man. "I try to be as red white and blue as I can."

"He does," Pierce said, moving up towards the front, but keeping his eyes on his new patients, "He held his breath last night for three minutes and turned all three colors."

Colonel Flagg has been a regular to this particular MASH unit. For various reasons his arrivals were a cause for concern. Everything that was already in chaos goes to hell in a hand basket because of him and if he is around during this delicate time then Hawkeye thought that he would not be responsible for what happens.

"Alright Pierce, have the Colonel sent in and we'll start up on him first." Burns ordered. Pierce immediately defied it.

"That ding dong has a simple scratch." Pierce complained, "That man on the other end has an even bigger one. On his stomach," his hand pointed to a wounded Chinese sitting on the opposite side of the bus from Flagg.

Not convinced, Burns challenged the captain, "Oh, nuts to you. Colonel Flagg is an American, and according to Army regulations…" as he continued, Pierce turned away and ushered orderlies to remove his patient and take him into pre-op. Hawkeye did not wish to listen to the major as he ranted, he did not want to fall asleep. Still, as he tried to leave the bus, Ferret Face, continued to rant but it was incoherent because no one was listening. At the door of the bus, the choke point where Hunnicutt and others had already stepped out, Pierce was stopped by Burns whom clapped a hand on his shoulder. By refusing to listen to the orders of a superior, Hawkeye could be brought up on charges and decided to listen to just a few words before adding a tacky note to the end himself.

"Need I remind you again, Pierce, about Army Regulations. American wounded come first, allied soldiers second, enemy prisoners of war third," Burns hissed.

"What are you, a walking manual?" Hawkeye asked as his stretcher patient was taken out by two orderlies.

"Yes!" Burns rose up in his defense.

Hawkeye then spat, "Good, I need more toilet paper," before stepping outside, leaving the major to ponder just what the captain meant.

Time wore on, doctors went to work in O.R threading silk, cutting with scalpels, and bandaging with gauze. Twelve patients were admitted, and after six hours, there were only two left, the two Americans. Hawkeye and B.J were working on the shrapnel case together to speed it up while Potter stepped away to his office to go over paper work Radar had left out in relation to Pelt. After some recuperating some in the ward, she will be shipped to the 121st Evacuation Hospital then to Tokyo for further treatment.

The last patient was the worst. Burns brought him in; Flagg.

"Have a seat here Colonel and I'll have you bandaged up in no time" Burns told him as his patient sat on an operating table.

"Careful, Flagg." B.J informed across the room, "You let him bandage you up and you'll be a mummy"

"Good, that will put him out of the war" Hawkeye added as he pulled out a piece of shrapnel, adding it into the bowl where a neat little collection was accumulating. Nurse Kellye was assisting at his side giving all the proper instruments. This session did not last too long, when the last piece was removed, the wound was cleaned, bandaged and taken to post operation for resting with the others. Burns had also finished with Flagg, whom refused to be given Novocain to dull the pain, stating that he might lose control if under its influence.

Hawkeye asked, "_Might_ lose?"

Not wanting to linger any longer, as soon as their casualty was taken away Hawkeye and B.J left to clean up and then head over to check on Pelt whom was moved to a corner and given a curtain to add some privacy. Back in his fatigues with the blouse open and hanging from his shoulders Hawkeye entered and right over to the curtain where Nurse Able was checking her chart.

"How is Nurse Pelt?" he asked.

"Stable. Quiet. She's asleep" Able replied turning her head to him in a whisper, grateful for that.

"Hasn't said anything?"

"Not a word" lightly shaking her head.

Nodding and slowly pulling himself away Hawkeye went down the center between the line of cots, each one had a patient in them, most were asleep and there were three armed MPs now in the ward to keep order but before Hawkeye left he found one cot was empty. Suspended at the foot of the bed was the patient's chart so it had to belong to somebody.

"Able" he called out.

the nurses bounded over immediately, "Yes, doctor?"

"Whose bed is this?" pointing quickly at the empty cot and now concerned that one of the prisoners had flown the coop.

"Colonel Flagg, doctor" Able confirmed.

"Where is he?" looking around the room. Able was unable to answer while in the next room, bearing a white bandage over his head, Flagg waltzed into Potter's office, breezing right past Radar whom tinkered with a radio at his desk. Pushing open the swinging doors, the colonel hoped to startle the commanding officer with his surprise appearance. It did not work. Potter was a man made of stone. He could not be intimidated easily like Blake, not even by the lunatic that was Flagg.

"Colonel Potter, it's me Colonel Flagg" he announced.

"You could have fooled me" Potter joked as his eyes merely glanced up from the paper work.

Flagg's face did not crack. Like his adversary, the CIA made Flagg unable to smile anymore. He grabbed a chair, spun it about, slammed his boot down on the seat in front of Potter's desk and gave an order: "Colonel, I wish to meet all of your officers. Now."

A moment passed, Potter did not heed to listen, continuing to sign his name on the papers for more plasma.

"Now!" he said louder, his powerful voice echoing in the room.

Calmly, Potter lifted up his eyes to meet the beady ones, "Why?"

"I am here on assignment. Last night I was out on the front line when a communist platoon tried to infiltrate our lines. I shot down the officer, threw grenades that killed twenty, and when they went off, I charged them and took out the rest in hand to hand combat," taking delight with his words, reliving a moment of glory, his head started to crane away looking towards the ceiling as if a painting was being created depicting this that only he could see.

At that moment, Hunnicutt staggered into the office half asleep, beard growing in, dirty, and clad in his bathrobe. As soon as he was done with surgery he went and collapsed on his cot. "Hi, Colonel" he greeted his commanding officer rather nonchalantly before sitting down to the left of Potter's desk.

"Who called you?" Potter asked rather surprised.

"Radar did" Hunnicutt yawned.

"Oh" Potter buckled his eyebrows. Soon afterwards, Margaret, Burns, and the Father entered, taking up a chair of their own. Neither of them knew what this was about, but seeing Flagg here in camp, knew it couldn't be good and last came Pierce saying, "Flagg, don't you know that giving orders is dangerous to OUR health?"

No amount of jokes or snide remarks would make Flagg break and everyone was too tired and tense to be up for shenanigans, but being the leader that he was, after everyone had settled in their seats, Potter asked, "What's new Flagg, one of our boys sent home a chocolate cake recipe?"

"Don't toy with me, Colonel. I fought a gook last night with my bare fists" his hands tightened up to show bare knuckles glistening white. "He hit me with his rifle barrel. Weaklings, he hit like a pansy, so I punched him in the stomach and then broke every rib in his body with my knee," as he spoke, his posture leaned towards the direction of Margaret whom cracked a blushing smile. "When it was over, I was given another assignment to come here and investigate an incident, so I climbed onboard the bus to watch over my prisoners. Now, Potter, fill me in on last night's incident with Jessica Pelt."

"How did you know…?" Pierce asked meaning how the colonel learned Pelt's first name was Jessica and not the commonly used "Jessie."

"I worked over my informant. He filled me in on all the information that's going on in this camp. I even know where your father lives in San Francisco." Not bad, except he was looking at Pierce and it was Hunnicutt's father that lived in San Francisco.

"My father lives in Maine" the captain tried to correct.

"Fine" Flagg spat, "Live in a state of denial, I can play that as well."

Getting back on subject. Potter informed Flagg: "Last night, one of our nurses went into the supply shed and was attacked."

"Beaten to a pulp" Hawkeye added blatantly.

Potter continued with, "She underwent surgery and is resting in Post-op before she's taken to the 121st and then to Tokyo."

"Has she spoken?" Flagg asked, looking up in a planned posture of glory.

"All she said was the person had big hands" Hawkeye said.

All but Flagg seemed angered and saddened by this affair. He was known for it. The question hovering around would be; why? Margaret stepped up to express her sentiments.

"Why would anyone attack a nurse? People will rob wounded soldiers, Chinese will booby trap themselves, and our own artillery shells us. What is wrong with this war?"

"Generals, that is what" Hawkeye sneered.

"Colonel" Flagg asked, "Does your supply shed have penicillin in it?"

"Yes"

"Then that may be it. Penicillin is still valuable. People up North will give anything in order to get it."

"Those are the same people that have nothing to give in the first place" B.J said.

"I will investigate this little incident" Flagg spoke, arms crossed, walking around through the room as all the officers and Radar watched him. Everyone but Potter was apprehensive as to what this will lead to. Every time this particular intelligence officer shows up, the whole camp goes bananas after finding microphones in their tents. "I will find this attacker of Pelt and get back to you, Potter" leaving the room.

Finally gone, Hunnicutt looked at everyone's faces, puzzled. "Can we rig a jeep to run over him as he walks across the compound?" he asked.

"Too late, he did that to himself once" Pierce informed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Capture the Flagg

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to MASH. They are owned by 20th Century Fox. Nurse Pelt is my only creation.

Departing Potter's office, Flagg left his skeptics with blank faces and troubled minds. Discussing amongst themselves what should be done, Colonel Potter let this flurry continue for just a moment before rearing the reigns in on his officers and organizing them to deal with this new rising problem. First item, Potter asked Pierce how many patients they had on hand. There was now a mixture of friend and foe now in their recovery war. Prisoners, once deemed stable enough to travel, were to be moved to the rear. According to Pierce, there were ten POWS that were serious with belly wounds or infection.

"Good. Make sure to check their blood. I don't want a case of hepatitis to break out in the prison camps." Potter instructed. As he finished the paperwork already dealt to him, he called back Radar whom promptly came in and scooped up the work and hustled back to his own office.

"Swift as a hummingbird" Pierce proclaimed for Radar.

"And as dedicated as a Saint Bernard" Hunnicutt added with smiles.

Everyone loved Radar for his devotion to the unit and his caring heart. None could be said for Colonel Flagg. Tall, muscular, and handsome, that was the only real benefit the Colonel had for the outside world. Inside his mind, gears bounced and tumbled loosely. Many a time, he tried to have Pierce and Hunnicutt arrested for being communist sympathizers for placing wounded North Korean and Chinese prisoners ahead of United Nations wounded. No evidence could be developed, and the officers were set free. Subversive, no. Just that the two captains put their Hippocratic Oaths to heart to ignore political views and sides and devote themselves to their patients regardless. For Burns, the story was a bit different. To be honest, it was completely different. Frank Burns was a major, but his surgical skills were severely lacking; all thumbs according to the others, but if that were true then how could the 4077th maintain a survivability ranking of 97% that was even in one news reel? Perhaps they were exaggerating a bit, beefing up his episodes because Burns, despite his devotion to Regulations and to the American ideals he was not very popular amongst the camp.

With the coast clear, Potter began to give his orders on how to deal with the Flagg Syndrome.

"Alright as long as the looney bird is on the loose I want every one of you on alert. Be sure to keep a watch on him. Where he goes, one of you must go as well. I don't want that man anywhere near Post-Op."

"What about his rank, colonel?" Burns spoke up, "He outranks all of us, except for you. What if he orders us to speak with the prisoners."

"Then just say 'no' ". Potter answered back firmly. "I want you to make sure he does not hassle the patients. That means grow a backbone, Burns. No flirting, Maragaret. No pranks, Pierce, and shave off that mustache Hunnicutt. And, most in important of all, keep him away from Lieutenant Pelt."

Both surgeons exchanged looks to one another. How come Pierce received such a harsh order compared to his friend?

"How about me, colonel?" the Father asked. He had been silent for so long during all of this that he was forgotten.

"You I don't have to worry about, Father. Just pray."

"That's all I ever get to do" he sighed, frustrated.

With that, the meeting splintered apart. In his own office, Radar was typing up a storm in his weekly report to headquarters. He was noticeably shaken about the attack and he hid it by doing his work and was quite proficient in it. Radar was young, a child from Iowa. Tucked under his bed mattress is a teddy bear, a sign of his youth. Yet, he managed to keep this state of chaos that was MASH 4077 flowing. As he tapped the keys of his typewriter, Radar spelled out all available information about Nurse Pelt and the attack. Tears came to his eyes and slowly flowed down his cheek. Wiping them away and cleaning his glasses, he resumed his work, trying to keep the thoughts out of his mind.

Similarly, Hawkeye and Hunnicutt tried to quell their feelings over the matter by swamping themselves in caring for the other patients. Scared that they would be tortured and killed, the Chinese were wide eyed as the doctors examined their wounds and spoke in slow English. Unable to understand them, they remained silent and stiff.

"All this time in Korea and I still do not know the language" Hawkeye bawked.

"Don't worry," B.J laughed, "All you need to know in a different language is hello, goodbye, and where is the bathroom?"

That problem was dealt with, but what about Flagg? He was around. Coming out of the officer's latrine, he immediately caught the eye of Radar whom was passing out mail at this time by going from tent to tent trying to catch people. Observing from a far distance, Flagg seemed to be transfixed by a certain area of the camp; the supply shed. No guard was posted here, but it was bared by a new padlock and the MPs were still roaming about. Flagg approached the shed and observed the lock before hiding behind garbage cans and sneaking behind the tents. Though the MPs were many and moving about the man was able to elude them all through the compound, peeking into every tent and building there was, from the officer's club, to the nurses shower where Nurse Gage was trying to relax with a steamy hot shower. After taking in an eye full, Flagg passed on, and then Radar came to see what he was looking at. Then, with a full smile, he continued to shadow the colonel. Tent to tent, the two played a game of hide and seek. Suddenly, the corporal found himself cornered behind a stack of barrels between two tents. "Are have you been following me?" the colonel demanded from behind, standing up with his burly arms crossing his chest and looking down upon the corporal.

Appearing out of nowhere, Radar hurriedly stuffed an envelope into his mouth to muffle any response and trying to step away, as though he made a wrong turn.

Sidestepping in front of him Flagg blocked his away, "Are you trying to play me for a fool?" That was scary for the tiny boy, whom backed up slightly until his back came into contact with the barrels. Shaking his head negatively, he did not take the colonel for a fool, even though he was but was now fearful of his life.

"I know, corporal, why you are here" Flagg began. Rader's breath accelerated, heart froze, a cold shiver went all the way from his head, down his spine, and to the seat of his pants. He bit down hard onto the letter, soaking it with saliva until his mouth was completely dry. "You're on the trail of the attacker as well as I am."

For a moment, paused then nodded gleefully.

Extending one hand out from his body that nearly touched that of Radar's he continued, "That's good, son. Playing it real smart. While disguised as a postal carrier, you go around and gather information. That's real clever. Stay sharp, he's around here somewhere." Flagg proceeded to walk away and Radar breathed a hefty sigh of relief and nearly collapsed upon himself.

When his mail route was completed, Radar returned back to his office to inform the colonel, the real colonel, about what he had encountered. Apparently, Hunnicutt shared a similar experience earlier. Leaving the mess tent, he dumped his garbage into a can and out popped Flagg like a jack-in-box.

"Do you know you're wasting food?" Flagg sneered at B.J. It was impossible to keep a straight face with an officer that wore a lid for a hat and decorated like dreadlocks over his face were noodles and powder eggs.

"It's not real" Hunnicutt responded, "It's powdered and dehydrated" Almost all of it was. Even the orange juice and that is no joke.

"It's still food. All that powder came from American cows. If a red blooded American does not eat it, instead throws it into the ground, the Koreans will eat it. Do you know what would happen if they do?"

"We would win the war" taking up after Colonel Potter.

"That nut is driving the staff nuts. But he might turn up something. Just keep an eye on him." Potter furthered his order to Radar.

"But, sir, what if he starts to get crazy?" Radar asked worried.

"If he gets crazy tackle the man and Pierce or Hunnicut will have him sedated," Potter said as he polished his saddle.

"Me? Tackle him?" Radar yelped, eyes wide in fear.

Potter paused his work and looked up, "Sure, why not?" shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, sir...he's taller...and has a bird on his collar."

"Son," Potter said calmly, "I have a bird on my collar. No matter what that lunatic does, I still outrank him and I still outrank you."

"Yes, sir" giving in and nodding knowing that if he ever tried it then he might win but suffer a great deal of pain for it.

"But I love you still" he patted the corporal on the shoulder.

Both friends cracked smiles and returned to their duties. Before Radar could fully leave, Colonel added one more thing, "Tell Klinger, when he's on duty, to keep his eyes peeled. If that bandit is still around, he might come back for whatever he was looking for in there," meaning the supply shed.

Head wrapped in a linen turban, ruby red earrings dangling from his ears, bright red scarf wrapped around his neck for protection from the cold, and white high heels to boot, the only symbol that he was a soldier was his olive drab top and bottoms, ammunition belt, and M1 rifle clinched tightly in his hands. On edge over the attack, Klinger used his giant nose in the hopes to sniff out whoever it was and pay back for what they did to Pelt. Going about his rounds in an alert and shifty manner, the corporal mumbled to himself Lebanese curses. Most lights outside were snuffed out. One of the few alive was one dangling above the supply shed and one in front of Radar's office. Since the beginning of his shift, Klinger had been around the entire camp five times, so far, nothing, just a chilled wind from the North. Sometime around Midnight there was a crash and Klinger went to the shed immediately and found the door cracked open. Realizing it was another break in, Klinger rushed into the Swamp and eagerly shook awake the doctors. "There is someone in the supply shed, again" he informed them. Jolting awake, the four, including Burns, came out in their bathrobes and sandals, scampered over the drive way and headed towards the shed. The lights inside were out, but there was definite clamoring noise inside as a figure bumped into the metal racks and shook medical supplies about.

"Looks like he came back" Hunnicutt whispered. Pierce nodded in agreement. Outnumbered, this person did not stand a chance. In a flash, all of them of them piled into the small confine of the shed. A flurry of cursing, smashing, and wrestling ensued. So dark it was inside that it was impossible to tell friend from foe. At last, it seems that they were able to arrest the intruder and dragged him out to have him identified. To their horror and pleasure, they found it to be Colonel Flagg. The MPs were summoned and they put cuffs on the man as he was taken to the OR to get his wounds tended to.

As he sat on a surgery table, lips tight Flagg did not say a word as Hawkeye gathered up some gauze and iodine, "Why were you in there?" Pierce asked.

"I was looking for Penicilin," in a monotone voice after coughing a little and nursing a sore jaw.

Hunnicutt had an easy explanation as to why he was unable to find it. "We hid it from your last foray into our camp. We need it more than you do."

With that they were unable to get any more information out of the man.

As this was transpiring, Major Margaret Houlihan, chief nurse, was in Post Operation with Nurse Pelt. She was still there, asleep. Lucky for her, she did not known of Colonel Flagg's presence in camp yet. It was only a matter of time though before this lunatic was at her bed side asking what her political stance was. Margaret sat next to the bed, pen and pad in hand, waiting for Pelt to wake up. Slowly she did. Painfully, she turned her head to see the major there.

"Major?" she weakly asked.

"I'm here, Pelt" Margaret smiled.

"What happened?"

"You were in surgery. Try not to strain yourself. You need to rest." This side of Houlihan was uncommon for the rest of the unit to see. Outside was a stone faced officer and whole body soldier whom did not care about anything but strict discipline and the Army, but inside, deep down, she cared for everyone, from the wounded to the staff.

"Pelt, can you remember anything about what happened in the shed?"

"No, just those big hands. They were around me. Oh God...he could have killed me" beginning to weep.

"Calm down, Pelt. It's alright. He can't hurt you." her voice soothed the nervous nurse. Finished, Houlihan rose up and spoke to Nurse Able "Keep a close eye on her. If she says anything, write it down."

"Yes, Major" Able replied.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to MASH they are owned by 20th Century Fox. I own Nurse Pelt.

In the morning Radar was up and running about. He notified higher up the need for MPs to remove Colonel Flagg and this time Potter intended to stick it this pest. Thievery would ruin his career, a court martial and discharge and he would not bother him or his command again.

Pelt was also up. Her whole body hurt but she seemed more coherent and talked more as Nurse Kelley sat down at her bed side and wrote down everything. Though her attack was still vague she could recall that the man was in fatigues, taller than her, had large strong hands but also saw an eagle on his collar. "Are you sure?" Kelley insisted. "Yes," Pelt nodded groggily, "I saw an eagle." Kelley immediately went to inform Potter whom was just waking up himself and hearing this he connected the dots and reached for his service pistol.

"I'm going to shoot that son of a bitch myself," the old bird colonel yelled as he marched out of his tent, pistol in hand as Radar came running up.

"Sir, I AUGH!" seeing the pistol he recoiled in fear, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to eat the last Milky Way. I was hungry."

"No, Radar, this is for Flagg," Potter kept marching towards the VIP tent where four Military Police were posted. All through the night they had watched over the prisoner inside the stripped tent. Going by the Swamp Pierce and Hunnicutt came out to see the colonel enter the tent and heard him yell and scream at Flagg calling him "poor excuse for a human being. How dare you attack one of my people especially a woman!" It took the two captains to restrain the old man from shooting but in the confusion that reined Flagg sought his chance and bolted from the tent and the MPs chased him. He was long gone and Potter, fuming mad still, left back to his tent telling Radar that finished the order, "Get on the horn and call division for more MPs."

A little while later, Margaret was told that the ambulance was ready to take Pelt and other patients to Seoul. Coming to her bedside she came to say her farewells, "Now remember," the major said softly, "When you get out promise that you won't forget about us."

"Never, major," Pelt smiled.

Litter bearers carried Pelt outside as the ambulance pulled up. Hawkeye and B.J came to see her leave and she was overjoyed that they came. "Well, this is it. You'll be in Tokyo with good food, clean sheets, and better doctors," smiled Pierce.

Pelt chuckled, "Well, maybe just two of three. Good bye, Hawkeye," smiling under her bandages, "I'll miss you." She offered her hand to which the captain kissed. Being placed in the back of the ambulance she waved at the others. Shutting the doors they were off down the road and everyone turned to go back inside when there was a honking from an approaching Jeep.

"What in the Sam Hill now?" said a bitter Potter.

The Jeep pulled up in front of the building and a large major climbed out from the passenger seat and saluted, "Excuse me, I'm looking for a Colonel Potter."

"You found him."

"Sir Major Ellis Military Police. I believe we have someone that is familiar to you," he turned and pointed to the back of the Jeep where two large MPs were sandwiching in between them a still bandaged and deshoveled Flagg.

"Yeah, that's him. Colonel Flagg," the colonel pointed out.

"Colonel Flagg, sir?" the major looked at the shorter, older, Colonel Potter whom was stone faced when he responded, "Yeah, Flagg from intelligence."

"That's him," Pierce stepped forward with B.J.

"Sir," the major continued, "His name is Samuel Flagg but he is no Colonel. He is a private and a cook. He went missing in 1950 just after the North invaded and when found he had lost his marbles. He was sent to Tokyo Mental Hospital and promptly escaped.

The staff looked at each other stunned. This man, this loose cannon, one they had suspected of being a looney really was the whole time and his character was a charade. "We've been looking for him since then but he left quite a mess. He stole from Black Market people and from civilians and from soldiers from virtually every contingent here in Korea, steal everything from medicine to ammunition to weapons to personal items."

"What would he do with it?" Father Mulcahay asked.

"He would burn them or just dump them into a ditch and leave, as if he had lost interest in what he had down the road," said the Major. "Well, not to worry. We're he's going they'll be flying cars by the time he gets out."

"Thank you, Major for getting rid of this menace," Colonel Potter shook his hand and the MPs left taking with them the thorn in their backside and there was much rejoicing, however, before they could uncork their bottles Radar came running into the office.

"Sirs, choppers incoming!"

Mash 4077th went back to work.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to MASH, they are owned by 20th Century Fox. I did create Nurse Pelt and Sergeant Zimmerman.

It had been a long time since Colonel Flagg, or Private Flagg, visited MASH 4077th in Korea and the members preferred to not to see that maniac again. Colonel Potter was able to gain the transcript from the Court Martial and was more than pleased with the results. Lieutenant Jessica Pelt was able to recover enough from her devastating injuries to be a witness and take the stand and give testimony against him thought it pained her and she did break down a couple times into tears. For his crimes, which were many including impersonating an officer, many counts of theft, assault, and general insanity, Samuel Flagg was sentenced to forty years of hard labor in Leavenworth, Kansas, forfeiture of all pay and privileges, and a dishonorable discharge. "That's too light" the colonel grumbled reading through the pages. He wanted the man shot for what he did and recalled when he nearly pulled it off himself. He was looking down the barrel of his service pistol, right between the eyes of that mad man, clutching the grip so hard it shook; screaming profanities that came out garbled. Before he could go through with the deed Pierce and Hunnicutt restrained him and Flagg made a dash for freedom but was shortly afterwards caught. Theft was one crime but pummeling nurse Pelt for no reason was another and he wanted to be a member of the firing squad. Underneath all the court papers he found a envelope addressed to him from Pelt. Opening and taking out the card inside the writing was a bit messy, looked like his grandson's artwork, but he could still read it;

_Dear Colonel,_

_Sorry for the handwriting but I'm still bed ridden until my head heals up some more and my eyes still hurt. I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me. I'm at Walter Reed for now until I can get back on my feet and they're taking good care of me. Say hello to Hawkeye and B.J for me as well at Major Houlihan, I'll miss them as well. Head's starting to hurt. Write you again soon._

Finished reading the letter and fighting back some tears Colonel Potter closed the card and put it back in the envelope and set it all aside to get back to work when the door opened, "Good morning, Radar," Colonel Potter said not lifting his eyes up as he continued to sign his name on the papers.

"Good morning, Colonel," said a sweet, soft voice and taken aback Colonel looked up, it was not Radar but a very familiar woman in fatigues sporting a wide smile, "Pelt?" shocked. The last time he saw her was when she was being evacuated to Japan.

"It's me" she giggled giving a salute, "Reporting for duty."

Rising up to his feet the colonel saluted back puzzled and called for Radar whom came in and was surprised to see Pelt standing there. "How'd you….?" Flustered as he looked at her and back at the double door entrance, "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright, Radar." Colonel nodded with a smile. Pelt handed over her orders and indeed she was reassigned back to the 4077th. Taking a seat the two officers had a talk. "I just read your letter. You're at Walter Reed."

"Oh, that one? That was a month or so ago. Guess Army mail is still slow, huh?" Pelt said.

"Guess so, but I don't see why you would want to come back here," the colonel said. He was not refusing her presence but judged that after what happened to her it would be best if she had stayed away and let her wounds heal more, he could still see some of the scars on her head just below the hair line.

"I would, colonel," nodding lightly and he noticed her eyes water, "but, you see, I can't let terror drive me. My father was in World War II and when he lost his leg in Holland he wouldn't talk about it, at all. I'm sure he thought to himself if he ignored it long enough his leg would come back. It was sad. I could hear him crying as he drank almost every night." Potter gave her a tissue when he saw a tear running down her plush cheek. "When I went to be a nurse he told me to 'never let fear keep you away.' I never understood what he meant until after this."

Agreeing the colonel asked for Radar to bring in Major Houlihan. When Margaret came into the office she was not told as to why until she saw her and immediately froze and broke into a wide smile. "Lieutenant Pelt?" Houlihan exclaimed in joyful surprise.

"Actually, I'm captain now," giving a light tug on her fatigue collar with the railroad ties. She felt achieved to have not only survived but advanced up the ranks and now wanted to come back to prove herself. The major felt a surge in pride as she was told that Pelt was reassigned to them. "Grab your gear and go to the nurse's quarters. I'll but you on shift tonight."

"Yes, ma'am" Pelt saluted, picking up her bag she headed out. At the same time she went out Radar came rushing in with an alert, "Sir!"

"What is it Radar?" Colonel asked.

"Sir, incoming wounded. A lot of them."

"Okay, go wake up Hawkeye, Hunnicutt, and Burns," he directed walking out of the office to take part in surgery. What Pelt had arrived into was the remains of the hospital after on a two day deluge when they were swamped by casualties from almost every country on the United Nations as well as China and North Korea. Even Radar was running solely on caffeine. Walking outside and crossing the street to The Swamp Radar began feverishly tapping Hawkeye awake, "Sir? We have incoming wounded. Two buses." Going to the other side of the tent he woke up B.J and then Major Burns whom sat up bitterly complaining that they had just finished 48 straight hours of surgery.

"What time is it, Radar?" B.J asked sitting up and rubbing the sleep from with his eyes with the palms of his gritty hands.

"1210 hours," Radar responded warming his hands with the potbellied stove in the center of the tent. Despite it being sunny and cloudless outside it was just below freezing with gusts of wind coming from the north over the mountains that bit into their exposed flesh as the staff were woken up to renew their efforts of caring for the wounded.

"Oh, what a wonderful time," Hawkeye joked doing the numbers in his head. He calculated he slept for five hours which was much better than last week where that was the total he slept for seven days. Putting on his sweat encrusted socks and shoving them into his worn boots Hawkeye looked over at B.J as he fumbled to find his boots that were still on his feet, he was too tired to take them off.

"How much time till they get here?" Hawkeye asked when the P.A came alive.

"Attention! Attention! All personnel, Incoming wounded. Both shifts report for duty. Sorry, folks."

"Yeah, thanks," B.J scoffed as he wrapped a scarf around his neck before heading outside with Hawkeye directly behind. Burns was the last up having a hard time finding his boots. When he fell asleep Hawkeye took them, dipped them in water, and left them outside to freeze.

The two buses arrived, full to the brim with American wounded. Climbing into the back of the bus Hawkeye was immediately confronted by a soldier with a ruined chest covered by bandages, struggling to breathe. "Sucking chest wound," he said to Radar, "This guy goes first. Get him inside I'm going to scrub up."

"I got it" a voice said next to him and when he turned to look he saw Pelt.

"Pelt?"

"That's me" she smiled gripping the two ends of the stretcher with Radar on the other.

"You're back?"

Before she could respond Major Houlihan came in let out a string of orders, "Alright you two, reunions happen later. Get these people inside." Nodding Pelt and Radar took the soldier inside with Hawkeye following shortly thereafter.

"Is that Pelt?" B.J asked as he went to the front of the bus.

"Yeah, she just got in a moment ago." Houlihan confessed.

"Ah, perfect timing," B.J said looking at the wounded with a grim outlook. Triage organized the casualties according to the severity of their wounds. There was not enough time for greetings for Pelt but it was what she wanted, to get back into the action.

"Pelt you'll be assisting Colonel Potter," Margaret said as she washed her hands and dawned a surgical gown and mask.

"Okay, major" feeling her heart race as she was about to go into the OR. Covering her nose and mouth with a mask that did not cover up those pretty bright green eyes and covering her hands with gloves she approached Colonel Potter letting out a long sigh as she tried to steady her nerves.

"You ready?" Colonel Potter asked as their patient was brought in by Klinger and Igor. Looking down at the boy whose chest and stomach had been chewed up by shrapnel she closed her eyes tight and opened them at the reassuring face of the colonel.

"Yeah, I'm ready," she confessed.

"Okay then. Scalpel" Potter asked and felt the stainless steel instrument being placed into his palm. Off to a good start.

As they worked Hawkeye whispered to Houlihan that was assisting him, "Is that Pelt?" and the major nodded, "When did she get back?"

"Just awhile ago. Didn't even have time to unpack" Houlihan said as she handed a clamp to the surgeon to pinch off a bleeder in the open stomach wound. "I'd thought she would stay away."

"Me to" Pierce confessed, "Considering…." Meaning after what Flagg did to her but he could not summon the courage to do so. He detested Flagg, everything he stood for, the only reason why he did not leave Korea was the patients, that and the guarding MPs. He looked up and saw Pelt's backside across the room, she still had a great body, perhaps the greatest in the camp, but dare also not to say in front of the major, might get jealous.

Perhaps the major was reading his mind for she next mentioned, "She's a captain now, Pierce," looking up. Underneath the mask she was smiling more for the nurse. Rank did not matter to Pierce, he would try any woman, he was a fair opportunist.

Twelve hours and the last of the casualties were cared for. Painfully removing her gloves and taking down her mask Pelt went into the scrub room to find Pierce asleep on the bench with B.J sitting on the floor nodding off himself. Potter had retired to his office. He invited the others for a night cap but Pierce and B.J could not summon the strength to go and fell asleep on the spot.

"Pelt, you did well in there," Margaret said coming in. She was professional in her demeanor though deep down she cared that she was back and still had her skills but in order to keep her position as well as a major, all professional, she kept her words to the point and tack.

"Thank you, major" Pelt said she threw her surgical gown into the hamper believing that this would be the last wounded she would care for until she could unpack. She had just stepped outside when there was a flurry of activity. The MPs became alarmed when they saw black figures approaching down the road past Rosie's Bar. There was a group of men, soldiers, coming on foot and they were in horrible shape. The first man that came up was a Hispanic sergeant that had a bandage around his neck that was soaked in blood.

"Halt who goes there?" the MP shouted clutching his carbine while positioning his body on the opposite side of his jeep as a shield if the group opened fire.

"Friendlies!" the sergeant pleaded with a hoarse voice. There was the threat of Chinese infiltrators but in hearing the voice they asked, for them to halt and they addressed the sergeant. Shining their flashlights into their eyes they asked him questions to prove that he was American.

"Please, we have wounded," the sergeant pleaded then turned and called for an officer, "Sir!"

A tall man approached shouldering a M1 rifle. His face was smeared in grime and his eyes glowed with the light as he asked what was happening. Looking over his uniform there was no indication that he was an officer, not that unusual, a smart officer would remove his rank and badge to prevent giving signals to snipers and also he carried the rifle of an infantry man not a carbine. "Sir, what's your name and unit?" the MP enquired.

Behind him there were the moans of many wounded men, "Robert Zimmermann, 179th Infantry Regiment, 45th Infantry Division; Thunderbirds." Convinced they were genuine they let them in but the officer also informed them that they had two Chinese prisoners of war that were wounded. When the group marched inside the compound the staff was awoken again and Pelt was the first one on the scene. She looked at the wounded sergeant as the men collapsed to the ground from exhaustion in front of the OR. Doing a count there were thirty-four men in this group with five on stretchers and all the others were walking wounded. Removing their helmets and letting the air cool their bodies that were soaked with sweat the men were thankful to be alive. The only man still on his feet was that tall, thin officer that was going around asking the men if they were alright and they would reply, "Yes, sir," and when Radar came up the man directed him to the litters as the most severe cases.

Pelt, full of energy, went up to one of the men on the stretcher; he had been shot through the gut and was trying to stay awake. "Hey, sweetheart," she smiled to which the boy opened up his eyes slightly and smiled in return, "Where you from?"

"Oklahoma" he coughed.

"Oh? Where at?" she kept asking to keep him awake.

"Ok…ok…Oklahoma City," licking his lips.

"Nice place," Pelt kept up the smile as she wrote down information on a casualty card. He was taken inside to be the first case. The officer was behind her when Pelt rose up and they bumped into each other. "Oh, sorry" she said looking up.

"Sorry, ma'am" he said stepping aside. More nurses came out along with orderlies to care for the casualties and the officer stood aside looking on with worry in his eye. Colonel Potter, B.J, and Burns were out with them looking at the wounds, including the prisoners, though some of the men showed their discontent just sitting next to them. Those on the stretchers were quiet except when touched, if a doctor did it they let out a light groan, if a nurse did it they let out a light, satisfied moan. "Are they going to be okay?" he asked one of the nurses going by and by luck it was Pelt once more.

"You bet" she replied taking in the wounded sergeant whom paused to shake Zimmermann's hand in gratitude.

When the casualties were organized Hawkeye stepped out and saw Zimmermann standing there staring with a blank face, "You alright?" Pierce gently brushed up beside him.

"Yeah, I'm fine" Zimmermann responded slowly removing his helmet and wiping his brow with the cuff of his fatigues, "God I'm cold." Flicking a look at the captain then at the men, and the prisoners, Zimmermann was seemingly in another world and did not hear Pierce at first when he asked 'what happened?' then it took a gentle nudge of the elbow and he snapped back.

"What happened?"

"Well" wetting his lips, "We were on the line near Hill 868 when we got hit by artillery then the Chinese were on top of us. My unit got overrun and I was alone wandering in the dark when I ran into those guys. They're from another unit and we started working our way out when we ran into a Chinese roadblock." Pausing to cough he continued, "We couldn't go around it so we snuck up on them and used grenades. That's how we got the prisoners. We went walking through the night picking up stragglers along the way until we got here."

"Hard night, huh?"

Scoffing Zimmermann looked up at the sky and then at the captain, "I don't know why but they kept looking at me for answers. 'Where we going?' 'What do we do?' giving a mimic of the other soldiers, he was gentle but was somewhat disturbed that they kept relying on him and he did not know why.

Hawkeye looked the man over. It was void of any form of rank, no insignia, devices but then saw the helmet in his hand and remembered that to they would paint a white vertical stripe on the back of their steel pots to identify officers and that was what he was carrying. "Where'd ya find that?"

Holding up the helmet Zimmermann chuckled when he saw the stripe himself for the first time, "Oh, this? I got knocked on my butt by a mortar and lost my own and picked up the first one I found and thought it was mine 'cause it fit." Rather amused and embarrassed Zimmermann looked on as 'his men' were led inside to be treated for their wounds. It was a hard night on everyone and now feeling safe inside his own lines Zimmermann began to feel fatigue start to overtake his body, his knees began to turn to jelly then he blacked out.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to MASH, they are owned by 20th Century Fox. I did create Nurse Pelt and Sergeant Zimmerman.

It was total blackness and cold. Tried moving but should feel nothing. Could see flashes of red, light through the eyelids then the eye lids slowly parted on their own, eyes were blurry, could see white figures moving around from left to right then the eyes opened further and there were more of them. Tried to lift the arms, they seemed pinned down but the eyes cleared up there were people, medical people in white gowns moving about. "Zimmermann?" a voice said rather softly to the right. Glancing that way there was a tall, disheveled, man looking down at him. "Private Zimmermann?"

Weakly he nodded in response.

"Hi, I'm Hawkeye Pierce" said the man sitting now at the foot of the bed. Pierce was haggard, face needed a shave, fatigued, eyes hollow and sagging bags with fussed up dark hair checked with gray and words that came out rather forced because of his weariness. "How'ya feeling?"

"I'm…I'm okay, I guess," Zimmermann whispered still feeling the effects of the sodium pentothal that drained his body. "What…what happened?" trying to recount everything up till now. He remembered talking to someone, standing outside in the hospital compound, then blackness.

Hawkeye answered, "Mortar fragments were in your back. You were bleedin' out slowly that's what made you pass out."

Zimmermann could recall that while standing inside their perimeter on the hill, a blast knocked him down then it was chaos afterwards. Chinese were everywhere; men were going at each other with machine guns, rifles, carbines, grenades, knives, and E-tools. It was just a mess then he next remembered walking down a road by himself and running into a wounded man. Hawkeye continued, "You've been bleeding out without knowing about it. Luckily for you it's more painful than serious. You'll be on your feet in no time."

"What about the others?" Zimmermann asked worried.

"They'll be fine. The one with the belly wound, Calvin, was shipped out this morning. He'll make it after some more surgery in Tokyo. They all say you saved their lives," Pierce said but Zimmermann groaned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just tired," Zimmermann replied.

"We just have to get some food to rebuild the blood you've lost. You'll be on your feet in no time."

"Food?" eyes brightened at the thought of getting fresh fruit and meat instead of C rations, it would be his first hot meal in months.

"Yeah, but don't hold your breath. The cook had to catch it before he broiled it," Hawkeye quipped, "Get some rest, I'll be back to check on you later." Rising up Hawkeye shuffled down the center of the room towards the exit, it was a more of a zombie shuffle, dead on his feet. When he reached his cot at the Swamp he collapsed face first into his pillow without taking off any clothes or his boots and was fast asleep. Zimmermann kept his eyes open and looked around. Nurse Pelt was attending the patient next to him, taking his temperature. From behind she did not look bad, curvature body, long strands of dark brunette hair tied into a bun behind the head, nice rump but his fixation did not last long when he heard another woman call for him. Looking forward there was Nurse Kellye with a thermometer.

"Open your mouth, please" the Hawaiian lieutenant asked. In a while he dozed back off.

Nurse Pelt was on the shift, as Zimmermann and the survivors slept she sat down at the desk in Post-Op, taking pen in hand she began writing down the patient's progress, going through the names one by one she felt herself being submerged, so many men, boys, and looking at their wounds, shrapnel, shot, all mutilated bodies but they were alive. In an hour she was done, dropping the pen she dropped the pen and sank her head into her hands and sighed. It was a long day but in dropping her hands and looking out onto the ward she looked at the patients, all sleeping quietly now and a smile came across her lips, it was peaceful here. In her heart she felt her innards being torn the yearning for peace in the middle of war, here was solace and just out those doors was the war.

The doors opened and in came Colonel Potter. Rising up from her seat Pelt smiled, "Good evening, Colonel."

"Good evening, lieutenant. How's the corral?" Potter asked in a whisper approaching.

"It's quiet," Pelt responded.

"Good. How was your time back in the states?"

"Oh, it was pretty good. Um, the doctors there patched me up pretty well," brushing a strand of forelock to the side to help conceal part of the scar from Flagg. Potter noticed it, with his old, steel eyes it was difficult to slip anything pass him. He knew that Flagg did a number on her but she was back her and to him she was brave. "They said they were going to keep me in the states but I…I wanted to come back."

"Why, though, lieutenant?" Potter asked," I'd figure that you would be much better there in a real hospital…." Potter was cut off when Pelt leaned to the left and suddenly moved forward, something caught her attention. Turning about Potter saw that Zimmermann was trying to stand up only to have the nurse come and lightly hold his shoulders to restrain him and whisper a few kind words to keep him from moving further. Walking to the foot of the bed Potter looked at the man and continued to hold his smile, "This is Zimmermann?"

"Yes, colonel," Pelt replied. Potter walked to the foot of the bed, arms lifted up cross over the metal pole that the charts hung from.

"Son, you're a bon a fid hero. Each man here says that you saved their lives," Potter's smile continued to spread, he was such a delightful man, and the staff call him a father for his compassion as well as senority that even made Pelt smile.

"I'm no hero, colonel," Zimmermann replied brushing it off.

"Nonsense, son, when you're back on your feet again in no time and then it's off to Tokyo," Potter said that made Zimmermann freeze.

"Tok…tok…Tokyo, sir?"

"That's right, son. I was just on the horn with HQ. They heard about you and want you on the first plane as soon as you're on your feet you'll on your way." Before Zimmermann could protest Potter was off giving Pelt a delightful nod before leaving for his office. "Pelt, when you're done come see me in my office."

"Yes, colonel," Pelt replied.

In two hours Pelt was relieved by Nurse Able and she knocked gently on the swinging doors of Potter's office. Radar was fast asleep on the cot behind her, clutching his teddy bear tightly. He looked so cute, a baby in his crib.

"Come in."

Pushing the door Pelt was before Potter as he was just finishing a glass of brandy. Seeing the woman Potter, ever the gentleman, rose up from his seat. "Good evening, ma'am. Have a seat. Can I pour you a drink?"

"Just a splash, please," smiling as she sat down and relaxed for the first time since arriving. Colonel picked out a second glass and dropped a splash and placed the glass before the lieutenant whom picked it up and gently took a sip and coughed, "Good stuff."

"How's your first day back, Pelt?"

"Pretty good, colonel. Considering..."

"Major Houilhan gave you four stars. Good to know that you still kept your touch while you were gone. How's your head?"

She still suffered from occassional headaches but what she did not tell anyone was the periodic breaking into tears when her mind shifted back to what happened that night. When her eyes watered she quickly brushed them away with her fingers but the Colonel could see it. "You still feel it?" he asked in a low, gravel voice.

"Yeah, I do" she whimpered. Her sorrow turned to anger gripping the glass tight in one hand. "Truth of the matter, I wanted to kill him, colonel. For what he did. When we were in court the only thing keeping me from tearing him apart were my bandages."

A firm hand reached across the table lightly touching the thin wrist attached to the constricting hand and she felt her anger subside, "Anger will get you no place. What's done is done. Flagg is gone. He ain't comin' back. Believe me I wanted to shoot him myself, damn, near did but I knew that if I did no one would win." The way the colonel spoke, soft, full of thought, intelligence, sense and Pelt nodded lightly in tearful agreement.

"How did Flagg get away with that charade of being in the CIA?" she asked.

"Well, I got Radar to do some snoopin' and I called in all the favors I could with people I never met. It seems that Flagg was a con man, or worse a car salesman. He charmed or intimidated people into believing whom he was and passed it off so well even G-2 and the CIA were fooled that he was one of them."

"But, how?"

To this the colonel only knew, "They never tell anyone their business, not even who is with them. All they know is anyone not with them is against them. Cookie business. Now, you finish that drink and get some sleep, in the morning we'll get you back in the saddle." the smile reappeared.

Smiling as she finished the last drop, "Thanks, colonel."

she returned to her tent that she shared with Nurse Kelley, Baker, and Gauge and now had a chance to unpack and get some sleep. When she entered the tent she ound that her belongings had already been sorted and stowed and there was a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the pot bellied stove for her but her bunk mates were already fast asleep. Taking up the canteen cup that was three-fourths full of a thick tar that smelled somewhat like chocolate she sat down on the bunk and took a sip. Strong and thick as it flowed down the throat. "Wow, strong," she coughed then smiled, "It's good to be back."


End file.
